


Domestic Discipline

by TheEvangelion



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: BDSM, Bare Bottom Spanking, Comfort, Corporal Punishment, Dom Kara, Dom/sub, Domestic Discipline, Dominant Kara, F/F, Gentle BDSM, Gentle Dom Kara, Hurt/Comfort, Otk spanking, Praise, Praise Kink, Punishment, Spanking, Submissive Lena, Top Kara, bottom lena, punishment and praise, sub lena, supercorp smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-13
Updated: 2020-06-13
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:48:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24697084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEvangelion/pseuds/TheEvangelion
Summary: Lena needs help maintaining a healthy work/life balance. After a terrible day at work, Kara disciplines her in all the precise ways that she needs. [Plenty of aftercare, hand spanking, domestic punishment, soft on the heart, relatively tame.]
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 9
Kudos: 369





	Domestic Discipline

_ Prompt: Hi. May I request some domestic discipline? Preferably supercorp. Maybe Lena needs help maintaining a healthy work/life balance? Kind of tame. Spanking and restrictions, with praise and aftercare, and a side of buttery biscuits please. _

“Talk to me,” Kara sighed.

The carrots were chopped with a sense of unspoken fury. The sugar peas looked on in horror from across the counter — well aware they were next. Lena didn’t turn around, she couldn’t turn around, because to acknowledge the big worrier was to admit that she was utterly  _ fucking _ drowning. Luthors didn’t become overwhelmed, that was rule number one, and they certainly didn’t so easily accept the defeat of admitting the contrary. These were the lessons of her life, and despite being well aware it was farcical, Lena felt unable to express herself in  _ any _ terms, sincere or otherwise.

So she chopped the carrots, glugged the wine, turned the heat down on the stove, became an entire whirlwind of culinary frustrations, and regardless of her refusal to acknowledge her wife, Kara simply watched on for minutes, calmly.

“Lena,” Kara whispered and stilled the white knuckles wrapped around the knife. “If you don’t tell me, I can’t help. We can just talk about it without discipline being on the table. It is  _ always _ going to be okay if something bad has happened and you just want to get it off your chest — your wellbeing is my priority, nothing else.”

“You don’t know what I did,” Lena whispered and hung her head.

“Did you kill anyone?”

“No.” Lena furrowed her brow at that.

“Good, there’s our baseline, nobody died today.” Kara smoothed a hand down her spine. “Whatever is going on… you have been weird for a couple of days now and I’m worried this thing is getting on top of you.”

Lena sighed and nodded, then nodded again. 

“Yep, you could say that,” she whispered and rubbed where her temples and pristinely pulled back hair met.

“Do you want to tell me over my knee or in my arms?”

“The former please, Miss.”

“Okay,” Kara instantly became authoritative, still soft and gentle, but perhaps more certain of herself and how she could be useful. “Come with me, let’s go and sit in the study and take care of this thing.”

***

There was no sense of time. Lena knew the rules, the procedure, the precision of it, and therein was a reliability that could be leaned against so the weight on her shoulders didn’t feel so heavy. It embarrassed her on some small level that she needed the discipline, but above all else, embarrassment topped the list of what was forbidden in their home. Kara was flexible on the rules, maybe a little too flexible sometimes, but self-flagellation was the limit of what she would abide.

Lena remained tucked over the sturdy knees under her belly, panties pulled down around her ankles, skirt bunched up and over her hips, thinking and not thinking, simultaneously.

“There’s no rush,” Kara reassured again. “When you’re ready you will tell me exactly what happened and I will listen very carefully until you are done. We will agree on your punishment and then I will execute that punishment. You will apologise, and you  **will** be forgiven, are we clear with one another?”

“We’ve done this a thousand times,” Lena mumbled.

“That was not what I asked, and I think it would be one of your wiser moves today if you concern yourself with what I explicitly ask of you.”

Lena inhaled and held on to her breath for a moment, she managed a small shy nod and then exhaled the air out of her chest.

“I didn’t quite hear that,” Kara’s voice was neither stern or harsh, and in that regard, as far as Lena was concerned at least, she was the master of the universe with little more than a sharply lifted brow.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am. Yes, I understand,” Lena spoke up.

“Then take as much time as you need, I’m not in a rush and I am not going anywhere.”

Lena pushed out a deep sigh and thought about it, really thought about it. Lena would have felt better if it was one gigantic problem, perhaps then her prolonged bad mood would be justifiable, but instead it was just a dozen tiny things that had accumulated and cluttered her headspace over the last week — so tiny she could barely remember most of them — and so Lena skipped to the end and settled on the big thing that had finally tipped her over the edge today.

“I secured an important contract this afternoon,” Lena whispered and tucked her chin forward. “I don’t like the person I had to be in order to close the deal. I… I had three employees resign over it.”

Kara waited for a prolonged moment in order to not interrupt. When she was satisfied Lena had nothing else to add of her own volition to the terse explanation, she smoothed a hand along her wife’s spine and exhaled calmly.

“Tell me whatever it is that you’re not telling me, Lena,” she instructed.

“It’s a contract with Morgan Edge.” Lena closed her eyes and felt dirty. “The sexual harassment scandal left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth to say the least… if there was another company I could get the tech that I need from, I would have used anyone else, but Morgan has ironclad patents left, right and center. Without his technology… there is no project. Without the project, there is no affordable housing initiative…”

“Okay. Have you ever personally sexually harassed anybody in the work place?” Kara asked matter of fact.

Lena panicked and felt her blood pressure damn near skyrocket. “No Miss! I would never—”

“Then you are not the bad guy,” Kara said calmly. “You cannot answer for somebody else’s wrongdoings, and I understand that the optics of this situation make you look bad, but if there wasn’t another company then you made the only decision you could make. The employees who left today made the only decision they could make. These two things are not exclusive from one another.”

“But I still feel gross and dirty inside…” Lena whispered and clutched at her wife’s thigh a bit tighter.

“How much money was the contract worth?”

“As in how much did we pay?” Lena peered up over her shoulder.

“As in how profitable do you anticipate this project will be for L Corp in the long run?”

“Well...” Lena exhaled and did the math, carried the one, divided the six, completely lost her train of thought and decided rough ballpark figures would have to suffice. “Perhaps in the region of ten million net profit, Miss, give or take. Fuck… I’m in bed with Morgan Edge and all I’m thinking about is how much money I’m going to make from an  _ affordable housing project _ —”

“Okay, alright.” Kara hushed and stilled the anxious thing moving in her lap. “Here’s what we’re going to do. I’m going to spank you, not because I think you inherently deserve punishment, but because you have asked for it and I think you need it to move forward. First thing in the morning we’re going to research organisations that support victims of sexual violence and you’re going to make a private donation for fifty percent of what you will personally make from this deal in the long run. Am I clear?”

There it was, Lena thought. The overwhelming sense of safety that crept up out of nowhere when Kara was the disciplinarian. 

“Yes Ma’am,” Lena felt the weight instantly lift.

Sometimes there weren’t good choices but there was  _ always _ the choice to do good things. But the need to be tangibly punished… Kara was correct about that. It persisted as it always did whenever she was tied up in knots about something. To be spanked was a way to place a bookmark behind the offence, not a complete end to the chapter, merely a tool so she didn’t have to keep reading the same passage over and over again. That was what domestic discipline did for Lena when Kara was the authority she entrusted it with: the ability to acknowledge and pay penance for a bad choice, the freedom to move forward from it, the grace to be shaped and do better because of it. It was both penalty and possibility, all at once, all layered delicately on top of the other.

“ I feel less heavy now,” Lena whispered and exhaled. “Thank you, Miss.”

“That’s okay, baby, that’s what I’m here for.” The back of Lena’s ear was pecked with a chaste kiss, then once again for good measure. “The whistleblowers who lost their jobs at Morgan Edge gave an interview to CatCo last month, I’ll look up their contact information. I think you should get in touch and see if you can find them suitable job positions at L Corp. That would certainly be one way to add some healing to this whole thing, don’t you think?”

“Well you just have all the good ideas…”

“Mhm, it is a pretty good idea. How about we get this spanking out of the way, get you some dinner and a good night’s sleep, then tomorrow you can go and do that wonderful thing you do where you make the world just a little bit better?” Kara hummed softly.

“Yes please, I’m ready to start putting this away now.” Lena nodded and pushed out her bottom.

Her skin was stroked softly with both palms making careful, gentle work out of her bottom and thighs. It was entirely removed from eroticism, it was a dependable kindness that preceded every corporal punishment if only so Lena understood in the most concrete terms possible that Kara was not—and would never be—enraged or angered with her. 

Lena closed her eyes and felt the hands on her bare bottom give her a final squeeze. Then, her position was tilted, a firm hand pushing between her shoulder blades while the other lifted her hips into a far more vulnerable and effective arrangement. Kara was tender and gentle, her spankings were anything but, and Lena appreciated that sense of consequence and gravity.

Kara gave six hard strikes with her hand, three to either cheek. The sting knocked Lena forward with a wince, and as her fingers dug into Kara’s thigh for purchase, Kara’s palm spread harder between her shoulderblades keeping her bent and prone.

“I’m sorry!” Lena gasped when she reached the tenth.

Her bottom was hot and warm, stinging but not yet sore. The humiliation was the first hurdle, always. The fight or flight response would kick in by the tenth strike, her belly would grow tight, her nerves in a clutch, every bit of her body tight and embarrassed, and despite the fact she was not yet sorry in the ways that counted, she would gasp that word aloud and with it the last dregs of adrenalin and tightly-wound fear would leave her body — never fear of the punishment itself, rather the fear of being anything less than perfect.

“Half way there,” Kara promised, and then with a tight pull around her waist the spanking resumed.

The eleventh strike was hard enough to make her yelp and lurch forward, and as though she were being made to understand that it was no mistake or miscalculation, twelve damn near knocked the air out of her chest with a thunderous, searing slap to the underside of her bottom. It was always twelve that made her cheeks wet with a sudden burst of tears, and Lena had long since come to learn that it wasn’t the pain that caused it but rather the relief from submitting to the shape of it; the reality of being imperfect, the safety of knowing she would be forgiven and loved anyway. 

“Compose yourself, little girl,” Kara ordered and took her hands away.

“I—I’m sorry,” Lena stuttered and curled, stifling it one moment, failing in the next.

“Did I ask for an apology?” Kara was ruthlessly collected about the ordeal.

“No Ma’am,” Lena caught her breathing and shook her head.

“There we go, there’s a good girl.” Kara squeezed her shoulder. “Are you ready to continue?” she asked softly, and Lena knew perfectly well that  _ no _ was an acceptable answer.

“Yes Ma’am,” Lena exhaled and wiped her cheeks. “I want to finish.”

“Resume your position, little one.” Kara guided her shoulders back down.

Pain could be a powerful aphrodisiac, Lena was no stranger to it, but arousal was neither the means or the end to this suffering. It was always the power of crashing into the full force of her emotions, composing herself, and then deciding to continue into the deep dark terrible that gave her what she so desperately needed: catharsis and closure.

The journey to twenty was introspective and no longer measured with the collision of strikes against her bare stinging bottom. It was both a miniscule passage of time and an entire month of bottled emotions to work through, suddenly, all at once. Lena felt the anguish burn and swell up in her throat, she inhaled and forgave herself for it. She felt the fear of weakness tremble in her belly, she inhaled and forgave herself for the feeling. The shame of her choices nipped and stung, but she inhaled and forgave herself for them. There was only one thing she could not absolve herself of, an anxiety so monumental it could not be scaled or conquered in any meaningful sense of the word.

Twenty came with a hard thunderous smack, and before the pain could be processed she was already safe and tucked in slender arms that had her and wouldn’t let go. Lena managed a gasp for air, and then another, and that was when the final fear was able to be absolved and released: she hadn’t disappointed Kara, she hadn’t and she never would.

“You’re okay, we’re done, it’s over and you’re forgiven,” Kara hushed and buried her nose into wisps of raven hair. “You’re forgiven, Lena, you don’t have to be angry with yourself anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Miss,” Lena tearfully whispered, curling herself into Kara’s warm body as though she were a human comforter.

“I know, I know you are,” Kara held her and didn’t let go. “You don’t have to be sorry anymore, little girl, it’s done and it’s forgiven.”

The journey to bed came before food. It would never not be an astounding feat whenever Kara carried her to bed, and she felt guilty on some level that it usually came in moments where she was too exhausted to tell her so, but Lena inhaled and forgave herself for that too.

“Silky pyjamas or your checkered cotton ones?” Kara offered up the first two shirts she grabbed from the drawer.

“No, no, I’ll make dinner first,” Lena protested from clean sheets and an abundance of blankets.

“No, you will not,” Kara was utterly stern on the matter. “The chopping board can’t take anymore tonight, he threw in the towel before the fight even got going. We’re eating pizza and watching true crime, and that’s that.” Kara yanked her trousers off and clambered into bed.

“Kara?” Lena whispered, and her wife grew still and attentive. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she craned and pressed a kiss to her temple.

Lena smiled and nodded. “I know.”

[ Join our lesbian coven HERE, we cry about our feelings and sacrifice men under the cover of moonlight. ](Http://theevangelion.tumblr.com)


End file.
